"G45850TT 

FROM    THE 

AUTHORS  CLUB  LIBRARY 

DEPOSITED   IN 

THE  NEW  YORK  PUBLIC  LIBRARY 
1932 

WITHDRAWN 


AIRS   OF   PALESTINE. 


AIRS    OF    PALESTINE ; 


Jpcem : 


BY  JOHN   PIERPONT,   ESQ. 


I  love  to  breathe,  where  Gilead  sheds  her  balm  ; 
I  love  to  walk  on  Jordan's  banks  of  palm  ; 
I  love  to  wet  my  foot  in  Hermon's  dews  ; 
I  love  the  promptings  of  Isaiah's  muse : 
In  Carmel's  holy  grots  I'll  court  repose, 
And  deck  my  mossy  couch  with  Sharon's  deathless  rose. 


SECOND    EDITION. 


BOSTON  : 

PUBLISHED    BY    WELLS    AND    LILLY. 

1817. 


WITHDRAWN 
FROM  N.Y.P.U 


DISTRICT   OP   MARYLAND,    SS. 

BE  it  remembered,  That  on  this  thirteenth  day  of  November,  in 
the  forty-first  year  of  the  Independence  of  the  United  States  of 
America,  John  Pierpont,  Esquire,  of  the  said  District,  hath  depo 
sited  in  this  Office,  the  Title  of  a  Book,  the  right  whereof  he 
claims  as  author,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit : — 

"Airs  of  Palestine;  a  Poem:  by  John  Pierpont,  Esquire. 

"  I  love  to  breathe,  where  Gilead  sheds  her  balm  ; 

"  I  love  to  walk  on  Jordan's  banks  of  palm  ; 

"  I  love  to  wet  my  foot  in  Hermon's  dews  ; 

"  I  love  the  promptings  of  Isaiah's  muse : 

"  In  Carmel's  holy  grots  I'll  court  repose, 

"  And  deck  my  mossy  couch  with  Sharon's  deathless  rose." 

, »  f&t  eonfomrity  *o  the  actr  ofVthe  Congress  of  the  United  States, 
JeutiiJed  "An*act  fpr  rt#d  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing 
the  copies  <jf  ftiaps^  &a$s«  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprie- 
*  toi$  of.  s,uch  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,"  and  also 
^t/Uhf  aetj  "entitled*"  AJ»  acl,  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled  an 
»  &qj,  ^oi*t|»e  £ic\)«isigcn|Br,£  fef  learfting,  by  securing  the  copies  of 
maps,  chains  anti  Ixipki,  «td  ihj?k  authors  and  proprietors  of  such 
copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,"  and  extending  the 
benefits  thereof,  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving  and  etching  his 
torical  and  other  prints.  PHILIP  MOORE, 
Clerk  of  the  District  of 


(5U- 


AIRS  OF  PALES,TH4i. 


SUMMER'S  dun  cloud,  that,  slowly  rising,  holds 
The  sweeping  tempest  in  its  rushing  folds, 
Though  o'er  the  ridges  of  its  thundering  breast, 
The  King  of  Terrours  lifts  his  lightning  crest ; 
Pleas'd  we  behold,  when  those  dark  folds  we  find, 
Fring'd  with  the  golden  light,  that  glows  behind. 
So,  when  one  language  bound  the  human  race, 
On  Shinar's  plain,  round  Babel's  mighty  base, 
Gloomily  rose  the  minister  of  wrath ; 
Dark  was  his  frown,  destructive  was  his  path ; 
That  tower  was  blasted  by  the  touch  of  Heaven ; 
That  bond  was  burst — that  race  asunder  driven  : 
Yet,  round  the  Avenger's  brow,  that  frown'd  above, 
Play'd  Mercy's  beams— the  lambent  light  of  Love. 
All  was  not  lost,  though  busy  Discord  flung 
Repulsive  accents  from  each  jarring  tongue ; 
All  was  not  lost ;  for  Love  one  tie  had  twin'd, 
\nd  Mercy  dropp'd  it,  to  connect  mankind  : 

980437 ' 


6  AIRS    OF 

One  tie,  that  winds,  with  soft  and  sweet  control, 
Its  silken  fibres  round  the  yielding  soul ; 
IBinds/aan.to  man,  sooths  Passion's  wildest  strife, 
,  And*  through  the  mazy  labyrinths  of  life, 
Supplies  a  faithfV!  clue,  to  lead  the  lone 
And  weary  wanderer  to  his  Father's  throne. 

That  tie  is  MUSICK.    How  supreme  her  sway  I 
How  lovely  is  the  Power  that  all  obey  ! 
Dumb  matter  trembles  at  her  thrilling  shock ; 
Her  voice  is  echo'd  by  the  desert  rock  ; 
For  her,  the  asp  withholds  the  sting  of  death, 
And  bares  his  fangs,  but  to  inhale  her  breath  ; 
The  lordly  lion  leaves  his  lonely  lair, 
And,  crouching,  listens  when  she  treads  the  air  ; 
And  man,  by  wilder  impulse  driven  to  ill, 
Is  tamed,  and  led  by  this  Enchantress  still. 
Who  ne'er  has  felt  her  hand  assuasive  steal 
Along  his  heart — That  heart  will  never  feel. 
*Tis  hers  to  chain  the  passions,  sooth  the  soul, 
To  snatch  the  dagger,  and  to  dash  the  bowl 
From  Murder's  hand ;  to  smooth  the  couch  of  Care, 
Extract  the  thorns,  and  scatter  roses  there  ; 
Of  Pain's  hot  brow,  to  still  the  bounding  throb, 
Despair's  long  sigh,  and  Grief's  convulsive  sob. 


PALESTINE.  7 

How  vast  her  empire!  Turn  through  earth,  through  air, 
Your  aching  eye,  you  find  her  subjects  there  ; 
Nor  is  the  throne  of  heaven  above  her  spell, 
Nor  yet  beneath  it  is  the  host  of  hell. 

To  her,  Religion  owes  her  holiest  flame  : 
Her  eye  looks  heaven-ward,  for  from  heaven  she  came. 
And  when  Religion's  mild  and  genial  ray, 
Around  the  frozen  heart  begins  to  play, 
Musick's  soft  breath  falls  on  the  quivering  light ; 
The  fire  is  kindled,  and  the  flame  is  bright ; 
And  that  cold  mass,  by  either  power  assail'd, 
Is  warm'd — made  liquid — and  to  heaven  exhal'd. 

Here  let  us  pause : — the  opening  prospect  view  : — 
How  fresh  this  mountain  air ! — how  soft  the  blue, 
That  throws  its  mantle  o'er  the  lengthening  scene ! 
Those  waving  groves — those  vales  of  living  green — 
Those  yellow  fields — that  lake's  cerulean  face, 
That  meets,  with  curling  smiles,  the  cool  embrace 
Of  roaring  torrents,  lulPd  by  her  to  rest ; — 
That  white  cloud,  melting  on  the  mountain's  breast : 
How  the  wide  landscape  laughs  upon  the  sky  ! 
How  rich  the  light  that  gives  it  to  the  eye  ! 


8  AIRS   OF 

Where  lies  our  path  ? — though  many*a  vista  call, 
We  may  admire,  but  cannot  tread  them  all. 
Where  lies  our  path  ! — a  poet,  and  inquire 
What  hills,  what  vales,  what  streams  become  the  lyre  ? 
See,  there  Parnassus  lifts  his  head  of  snow ; 
See  at  his  foot,  the  cool  Cephissus  flow ; 
There  Ossa  rises ;  there  Olympus  towers ; 
Between  them,  Temps  breathes  in  beds  of  flowers, 
Forever  verdant ;  and  there  Peneus  glides 
Through  laurels,  whispering  on  his  shady  sides. 
Your  theme  is  Musick  : — Yonder  rolls  the  wave, 
Where  dolphins  snatch'd  Arion  from  his  grave, 
Enchanted  by  his  lyre  : — Cithaeron's  shade 
Is  yonder  seen,  where  first  Amphion  play'd 
Those  potent  airs,  that,  from  the  yielding  earth, 
Charm'd  stones  around  him,  and  gave  cities  birth. 
And  fast  by  Haemtis,  Thracian  Hebrus  creeps 
O'er  golden  sands,  and  still  for  Orpheus  weeps, 
Whose  gory  head,  borne  by  the  stream  along, 
Was  still  melodious,  and  expired  in  song* 
There  Nereids  sing,  the  Triton  winds  his  shell ; 
There  be  thy  path — for  there  the  Muses  dwell. 

No,  no — a  lonelier,  lovelier  path  be  mine  : 
Greece,  and  her  charms,  1  leave,  for  Palestine. 


PALESTINE.  9 

There,  purer  streams  through  happier  valleys  flow, 

And  sweeter  flowers  on  holier  mountains  blow. 

I  love  to  breathe  where  Gilead  sheds  her  balm ; 

I  love  to  walk  on  Jordan's  banks  of  palm; 

I  love  to  wet  my  foot  in  Hermon's  dews  ; 

I  love  the  promptings  of  Isaiah's  muse  : 

In  Carmel's  holy  grots  I'll  court  repose, 

And  deck  my  mossy  couch,  with  Sharon's  deathless 


Here  arching  vines  their  leafy  banner  spread, 
Shake  their  green  shields,  and  purple  odours  shed  ; 
At  once  repelling  Syria's  burning  ray, 
And  breathing  freshness  on  the  sultry  day. 
Here  the  wild  bee  suspends  her  murmuring  wing, 
Pants  on  the  rock,  or  sips  the  silver  spring; 
And  here — as  musing  on  my  theme  divine, 
I  gather  flowers  to  bloom  along  my  line, 
And  hang  my  garland  in  festoons  around, 
Enwreath'd  with  clusters,  and  with  tendrils  bound ; 
And  fondly,  warmly,  humbly  hope  the  Power, 
That  gave  perfumes  and  beauty  to  the  flower, 
Drew  living  water  from  this  rocky  shrine, 
Purpled  the  clustering  honours  of  the  vine, 
*1 


10  AIRS    OF 

And  led  me,  lost  in  devious  mazes,  hither, 
To  weave  a  garland,  will  not  let  it  wither : — 
mmd'ring,  I  listen  to  the  strain  sublime, 
That  flows,  all  freshly,  down  the  stream  of  time, 
Wafted  in  grand  simplicity  along, 
The  undying  breath,  the  very  soul  of  song. 
Down  that  long  vale  of  years  are  sweetly  roll'd 
The  mingled  voices  of  the  bards  of  old  ; 
Melodious  voices  !  bards  of  brightest  fire  ! 
Where  each  is  warm,  how  melting  is  the  quire  ! 
Yet,  though  so  blended  is  the  concert  blest, 
Some  master  tones  are  heard  above  the  rest. 

O'er  the  cleft  sea,  the  storm  in  fury  rides : 
Israel  is  safe,  and  Egypt  tempts  the  tides  : 
Her  host,  descending,  meets  a  wat'ry  grave, 
And  o'er  her  monarch  rolls  the  refluent  wave. 
The  storm  is  hush'd  :  the  billows  foam  no  more, 
But  sink  in  smiles  : — there's  musick  on  the  shore. 
On  the  wide  waste  of  waters,  dies  that  air 
Unheard ;  for  all  is  death  and  coldness  there. 
But  see !  the  robe  that  brooding  Silence  throws 
O'er  Shur  reclining  in  profound  repose, 
Is  rent,  and  scattered,  by  the  burst  of  praise, 


PALESTINE.  11 

That  swells  the  song  th'  astonish'd  Hebrews  raiie. 
That  rending  anthem  on  the  wild  was  flung, 
From  Miriam's  timbrel  and  from  Moses'  tongue  :l 
The  first  to  Liberty  that  e'er  was  sung. 

But  if,  when  joy  and  gratitude  inspire, 
Such  high-ton'd  triumph  walks  along  the  lyre, 
What  are  its  breathings,  when  pale  Sorrow  flings 
Her  tearful  touches  o'er  its  trembling  strings  ? 

At  Nebo's  base,  that  mighty  bard  resigns 
His  life  and  empire,  in  prophetick  lines.2 — 
Heaven,  all  attention,  round  the  poet  bends, 
And  conscious  earth,  as  when  the  dew  descends, 
Or  showers  as  gentle,  feels  her  young  buds  swell, 
Her  herbs  shoot  greener,  at  that  fond  farewell. 
Rich  is  the  song,  though  mournfully  it  flows : 
And  as  that  harp,  which  God  alone  bestows, 
Is  swept  in  concert  with  that  sinking  breath, 
Its  cold  chords  shrink,  as  from  the  touch  of  death, 
It  mas  the  touch  of  death  ! — Sweet  be  thy  slumber*. 
Harp  of  the  prophet !  but  those  holy  numbers, 
That  death-denoting,  monitory  moan, 
Shall  live,  till  Nature  heaves  her  dving  groan, 


12  AIRS   OF 

From  Pisgah's  top  his  eye  the  prophet  threw, 
O'er  Jordan's  wave,  where  Canaan  met  his  view. 
His  sunny  mantle,  and  his  hoary  locks 
Shone,  like  the  robe  of  Winter,  on  the  rocks. 
Where  is  that  mantle  ? — Melted  into  air. 
Where  is  the  prophet  ? — God  can  tell  thee  where. 

So,  on  the  brow  of  some  romantick  height, 
A  fleecy  cloud  hangs  hov'ring  in  the  light, 
Fit  couch  for  angels  ;  which  while  yet  we  view, 
'Tis  lost  to  earth,  and  all  around  is  blue. 

Whose  veteran  arm,  already  taught  to  urge 
The  battle  stream,  and  roll  its  darkest  surge, 
Hangs  over  Jericho's  devoted  towers,3 
And,  like  the  storm  o'er  Sodom,  redly  lowers? 
The  moon  can  answer ;  for  she  heard  his  tongue, 
And  cold  and  pale  o'er  Ajalon  she  hung.4 
The  sun  can  tell : — O'er  Gibeon's  vale  of  blood, 
Curving  their  beamy  necks,  his  coursers  stood, 
Held  by  that  hero's  arm,  to  light  his  wrath, 
And  roll  their  glorious  eyes  upon  his  crimson  path. 
What  mine,  exploding,  rends  that  smoking  ground  ? 
What  earthquake  spreads  those  smouldering  ruins 
round  ? 


PALESTINE.  13 

The  sous  of  Levi,  round  that  city,  bear 
The  ark  of  God,  their  consecrated  care, 
And,  in  rude  concert,  each  returning  morn, 
Blow  the  long  trump,  and  wind  the  curling  horn. 
No  blackening  thunder  smok'd  along  the  wall : 
No  earthquake  shook  it : — Musick  wrought  its  fall. 

The  reverend  hermit,  who  from  earth  retires, 
Freezes  to  love's,  to  melt  in  holier  fires, 
And  builds  on  Libanus  his  humble  shed,5 
Beneath  the  waving  cedars  of  his  head ; — 
Year  after  year,  with  brighter  views  revolving, 
Doubt  after  doubt  in  stronger  hopes  dissolving  ;— 
Though  neither  pipe,  nor  voice,  nor  organ's  swell, 
Disturb  the  silence  of  his  lonely  cell ; 
Yet  hears  enough,  had  nought  been  heard  before, 
To  wake  a  holy  awe,  and  teach  him  to  adore. 
For,  ere  the  day  with  orisons  he  closes, 
Ere  on  his  flinty  couch  his  head  reposes, 
A  couch  more  downy  in  the  hermit's  sight, 
Than  beds  of  roses  to  the  Sybarite  ; 
As  lone  he  muses  on  those  naked  rocks, 
Heaven's  last  light  blushing  on  his  silver  locks, 
Amid  the  deep'ning  shades  of  that  wild  mountain, 
He  hears  the  burst  of  many  a  mossy  fountain. 


14  AIRS    OF 

Whose  crystal  rills  in  pure  embraces  mingle, 
And  dash,  arid  sparkle  down  the  leafy  dingle, 
There  lose  their  liquid  notes  : — with  grateful  glow, 
The  hermit  listens,  as  the  waters  flow, 
And  says  there's  musick  in  that  mountain  stream, 
The  storm  beneath  him,  and  the  eagle's  scream. 

There  lives  around  that  solitary  man, 
The  tameless  musick,  that  with  time  began ; 
Airs  of  the  Power,  that  bids  the  tempest  roar, 
The  cedar  bow,  the  royal  eagle  soar ; 
The  mighty  Power,  by  whom  those  rocks  were  piPd, 
Who  moves  unseen,  and  murmurs  thro'  the  wild. 
What  countless  chords  does  that  dread  Being  strike  ! 
Various  their  tone,  but  all  divine  alike  : 
'Tis  Mercy  now,  in  balmy  softness  stealing ; 
'Tis  Anger  now,  the  Mighty  One  revealing ; 
There,  'tis  a  string  that  sooths  with  slow  vibration, 
And  here,  a  burst  that  shakes  the  whole  creation. 

By  Heaven  forewarn'd,  his  hunted  life  to  save, 
Behold  Elijah  stands  by  Horeb's  cave  ; 
Griev'd  that  the  God,  for  whom  he'd  warmly  striven, 
Should  see  his  servants  into  exile  driven, 


PALESTINE.  15 

His  words  neglected,  by  those  servants  spoken, 
His  prophets  murdered,  and  his  altars  broken. 
His  bleeding  heart  a  soothing  strain  requires  : 
He  hears  it : — softer  than  jEolian  lyres, 
"A  still,  small  voice,"  like  Zephyr's  dying  sighs, 
Steals  on  his  ear  : — he  may  not  lift  his  eyes, 
But  o'er  his  face  his  flowing  mantle  flings, 
And  hears  a  whisper,  from  the  King  of  Kings.6 

Yet,  from  that  very  cave,  from  Horeb's  side, 
Where  spreads  a  desert  prospect,  wild  and  wide, 
The  prophet  sees,  with  reverential  dread, 
Dark  Sinai  rear  his  thunder-blasted  head ; 
Where  erst  was  pour'd  on  trembling  Israel's  ear, 
A  stormier  peal,  that  Moses  quak'd  to  hear. 
In  what  tremendous  pomp  Jehovah  shone, 
When  on  that  mount  he  fix'd  his  burning  throne  !7 
Thick,  round  its  base,  a  shuddering  gloom  was  flung 
Black,  on  its  breast,  a  thundercloud  was  hung  : 
Bright,  through  that  blackness,  arrowy  lightnings 

came, 
Shot  from  the  glowing  vail,  that  wrapped  its  head  in 

flame. 

And  when  that  quaking  mount  the  Eternal  trod, 
Scorch'd  by  the  foot  of  the  descending  God, 


16  AIRS   OF 

Then,  blasts  of  unseen  trumpets,  long  and  loud, 
Swelled  by  the  breath  of  whirlwinds,  rent  the  cloud, 
And  Death  and  Terrour  stalk'd,  beneath  that  smoky 
shroud. 

Seest  thou  that  shepherd  boy,  of  features  fair, 
Of  eye  serene,  and  brightly  flowing  hair, 
That  leans,  in  thoughtful  posture,  on  his  crook, 
And,  statue-like,  pores  o'er  the  pebbly  brook  ? 
Yes  :  and  why  stands  he  there,  in  stupor  cold  ? 
Why  not  pursue  those  wanderers  from  his  fold  ?      *  -^ 
Or,  mid  the  playful  children  of  his  flocks, 
Toss  his  light  limbs,  and  shake  his  amber  locks, 
Rather  than  idly  gaze  upon  the  stream  ? — 
That  boy  is  lost  in  a  poetick  dream  : 
And,  while  his  eye  follows  the  wave  along, 
His  soul  expatiates  in  the  realms  of  song. 
For  oft,  where  yonder  grassy  hills  recede, 
Pre  heard  that  shepherd  tune  his  rustick  reed ; 
And  then,  such  sweetness  from  his  fingers  stole, 
I  knew  that  Musick  had  possessed  his  soul. 
Oft,  in  her  temple,  shall  the  votary  bow, 
Oft,  at  her  altar,  breathe  his  ardent  vow, 
And  oft  suspend,  along  her  coral  walls, 
The  proudest  trophies  that  adorn  her  halls, 


PALESTINE.  J7 

Even  now,  the  heralds  of  his  monarch  tear 
The  son  of  Jesse  from  his  fleecy  care,8 
And  to  the  hall  the  ruddy  minstrel  bring, 
Where  sits  a  being,  that  was  once  a  king. 
Still,  on  his  brow  the  crown  of  Israel  gleams, 
And  cringing  courtiers  still  adore  its  beams, 
Though  the  bright  circle  throws  no  light  divine, 
But  rays  of  hell,  that  melt  it  while  they  shine. 

As  the  young  harper  tries  each  quivering  wire, 
It  leaps  and  sparkles  with  prophetick  fire, 
And,  with  the  kindling  song,  the  kindling  rays 
Around  his  fingers  tremulously  blaze, 
Till  the  whole  hall,  like  those  blest  fields  above, 
Glows  with  the  light  of  melody  and  love. 

Soon  as  the  foaming  demon  hears  that  psalm, 
Heaven  on  his  memory  bursts,  and  Eden's  balm : 
He  sees  the  dawnings  of  too  bright  a  sky ; 
Detects  the  angel  in  the  poet's  eye ; 
With  grasp  convulsive,  rends  his  matted  hair  ; 
Through  his  strain'd  eye-balls  shoots  a  fiend-like  glare ; 
And  flies,  with  shrieks  of  agony,  that  hall, 
The  throne  of  Israel,  and  the  breast  of  Saul  ; 
2 


IS  AIRS   OF 

ExiPd  to  roam,  or,  in  infernal  pains. 

To  seek  a  refuge  from  that  shepherd's  strains. 

The  night  was  moonless  : — Judah's  shepherds  kept 
Their  starlight  watch :  their  flocks  around  them  slept.9 
To  heaven's  blue  fields  their  wakeful  eyes  were  turn'd, 
And  to  the  fires  that  there  eternal  burn'd. 
Those  azure  regions  had  been  peopled  long, 
With  Fancy's  children,  by  the  sons  of  song  : 
And  there,  the  simple  shepherd,  conning  o'er 
His  humble  pittance  of  Chaldean  lore, 
Saw,  in  the  stillness  of  a  starry  night, 
The  Swan  and  Eagle  wing  their  silent  flight  ;i» 
And,  from  their  spangled  pinions,  as  they  flew, 
On  Israel's  vales  of  verdure  shower  the  dew: 
Saw  there,  the  brilliant  gems,  that  nightly  flare, 
In  the  thin  mist  of  Berenice's  hair ; 
And  there,  Bootes  roll  his  lucid  wain, 
On  sparkling  wheels,  along  the  ethereal  plain ; 
And  there,  the  Pleiades,  in  tuneful  gyre, 
Pursue  forever  the  star-studded  Lyre  ; 
And  there,  with  bickering  lash,  heaven's  Charioteer 
Urge  round  the  Cynosure  his  bright  career. 


PALESTINE.  19 

While  thus  the  shepherds  watch'd  the  host  of 

night, 

O'er  heaven's  blue  concave  flash'd  a  sudden  light. 
The  unrolling  glory  spread  its  folds  divine, 
O'er  the  green  hills  and  vales  of  Palestine  ; 
And  lo  !  descending  angels,  hovering  there, 
Stretch'd  their  loose  wings,  and  in  the  purple  air, 
Hung  o'er  the  sleepless  guardians  of  the  fold  : — 
When  that  high  anthem,  clear,  and  strong,  and  bold 
On  wavy  paths  of  trembling  ether  ran  : 
41  Glory  to  God  ; — benevolence  to  man ; — 
Peace  to  the  world  :" — and  in  full  concert  came, 
From  silver  tubes,  and  harps  of  golden  frame, 
The  loud  and  sweet  response,  whose  choral  strains 
Lingered  and  languished  on  Judea's  plains. 
Yon  living  lamps,  charm'd  from  their  chambers  blue, 
By  airs  so  heavenly,  from  the  skies  withdrew : 
All  ? — all,  but  one,  that  hung  and  burn'd  alone, 
And  with  mild  lustre  over  Bethlehem  shone. 
Chaldea's  sages  saw  that  orb  afar, 
Glow  unextinguished  ; — 'twas  Salvation's  Star. 

Hear'st  thou  that  solemn  symphony,  that  swells 
And  echoes  through  Philippi's  gloomy  cells  ? 


20  AIRS    OF 

From  vault  to  vault  the  heavy  notes  rebound, 

And  granite  rocks  reverberate  the  sound. 

The  wretch,  who  long,  in  dungeons  cold  and  dank, 

Had  shook  his  fetters,  that  their  iron  clank 

Might  break  the  grave-like  silence  of  that  prison, 

On  which  the  Star  of  Hope  had  never  risen ; 

Then  sunk  in  slumbers,  by  despair  opprest, 

And  dream'd  of  freedom  in  his  broken  rest ; 

Wakes  at  the  musick  of  those  mellow  strains, 

Thinks  it  some  spirit,  and  forgets  his  chains. 

'Tis  Paul  and  Silas ;  who,  at  midnight,  pay 

To  Him  of  Nazareth,  a  grateful  lay. 

Soon  is  that  anthem  wafted  to  the  skies  : 

An  angel  bears  it,  and  a  God  replies. 

With  thundering  crash,  are  burst  bolts,  bars  and 

locks ; 

Rent  are  their  chains,  and  shivered  are  their  stocks ;» 
Strong  tides  of  light  gush  through  the  yielding  doors, 
Glance  on  the  walls,  and  flash  along  the  floors. 
Fix'd  in  dismay,  the  shuddering  keepers  gaze 
At  the  bright  suns,  on  Freedom's  brow  that  blaze, 
As  she  descends  to  break  the  prisoners'  bars, 
Whose  musick  charmed  her  from  her  kindred  stars. 


PALESTINE.  21 

'Tis  night  again  :  for  Musick  loves  to  steal 
Abroad  at  night ;  when  all  her  subjects  kneel, 
In  more  profound  devotion,  at  her  throne  : 
And,  at  that  sober  hour,  she'll  sit  alone, 
Upon  a  bank,  by  her  sequestered  cell, 
And  breathe  her  sorrows  through  her  wreathed  shell. 
Again  'tis  night — the  diamond  lights  on  high, 
Burn  bright,  and  dance  harmonious  through  the  sky  ; 
And  Silence  leads  her  downy  footed  hours, 
Round  Sion's  hill,  and  Salem's  holy  towers. 
The  Lord  of  Life,  with  his  few  faithful  friends, 
Drown'd  in  mute  sorrow,  down  that  hill  descends. 
They  cross  the  stream  that  bathes  its  foot,  and  dashes 
Around  the  tomb,  where  sleep  a  monarch's  ashes  ;13 
And  climb  the  steep,  where  oft  the  midnight  air 
Received  the  Sufferer's  solitary  prayer. 
There,  in  dark  bowers  Unbosomed,  Jesus  flings 
His  hand  celestial  o'er  prophetick  strings ; 
Displays  his  purple  robe,  his  bosom  gory, 
His  crown  of  thorns,  his  cross,  his  future  glory  : — 
And,  while  the  group,  each  hallowed  accent  gleaning, 
On  pilgrim's  staff,  in  pensive  posture  leaning — 
Their  reverend  beards,  that  sweep  their  bosoms,  wet 
With  the  chill  dews  of  shady  Olivet — 
2* 


22  AIRS   OF 

Wonder  and  weep,  they  pour  the  song  of  sorrow,12 
With  their  lov'd  Lord,  whose  death  shall  shroud  the 

morrow. 
Heavens  !  what  a  strain  was  that !  those  matchless 

tones, 

That  ravish  "  Princedoms,  Dominations,  Thrones  ;" 
That,  heard  on  high,  had  hush'd  those  peals  of  praise, 
That  seraphs  swell,  and  harping  angels  raise, 
Soft,  as  the  wave  from  Siloa's  fount  that  flows, 
Through  the  drear  silence  of  the  mountain  rose. 
How  sad  the  Saviour's  song  !  how  sweet !  how  holy  ! 
The  last  he  sung  on  earth  : — how  melancholy ! 
Along  the  valley  sweep  the  expiring  notes  : 
OnKedron's  wave  the  melting  musick  floats  : 
From  her  blue  arch,  the  lamp  of  evening  flings 
Her  mellow  lustre,  as  the  Saviour  sings  : 
The  moon  above,  the  wave  beneath  is  still, 
And  light  and  musick  mingle  on  the  hill. 

The  glittering  guard,  whose  viewless  ranks  invest 
The  brook's  green  margin,  and  the  mountain's  crest, 
Catch  that  unearthly  song,  and  soar  away, 
Leave  this  dark  orb,  for  fields  of  endless  day. 
And  round  th'  Eternal's  throne,  on  buoyant  pinions 
play. 


PALESTINE.  23 

Ye  glowing  seraphs,  that  enchanted  swim, 
In  seas  of  rapture,  as  ye  tune  the  hymn 
Ye  bore  from  earth — O  say,  ye  choral  quires, 
Why  in  such  haste  to  wake  your  golden  lyres  ? 
Why,  like  a  flattering,  like  a  fleeting  dream, 
Leave  that  lone  mountain,  and  that  silent  stream  ? 
Say,  could  not  then  the  "  Man  of  Sorrows"  claim 
Your  shield  of  adamant,  your  sword  of  flame  ? — 
Hell  forc'd  a  smile,  at  your  retiring  wing, 
And  man  was  left — to  crucify  your  King. 

But  must  no  other  sweets  perfume  my  wreath, 
Than  Carmel's  hill  and  Sharon's  valley  breathe  ? 
Are  holy  airs  borne  only  through  the  skies, 
Where  Sinai  thunders,  and  where  Horeb  sighs  ? 
And  move  they  only  o'er  Arabia's  sea, 
Bethesda's  pool,  the  lake  of  Galilee  ? 
And  does  the  hand  that  bids  Judea  bloom, 
Deny  its  blossoms  to  the  desert's  gloom  ? 
No  : — turn  thine  eye,  in  visionary  glance, 
To  scenes  beyond  old  Ocean's  blue  expanse, 
Where  vast  La  Plata  rolls  his  weight  along, 
Through  worlds  unknown  to  science  and  to  song, 
And,  sweeping  proudly  o'er  his  boundless  plain,, 
Repels  the  foaming  billows  of  the  main. 


24  AIRS    OF 

Let  Fancy  lap  thee  in  Paraguay's  bowers, 
And  scatter  round  thee  Nature's  wildest  flowers  : 
For  Nature  there,  since  first  her  opening  eye 
Hail'd  the  bright  orb  her  Father  hung  on  high. 
Still,  on  her  bosom  wears  the  enamelled  vest, 
That  bloom'd  and  budded  on  her  infant  breast ; 
Still,  to  the  sportive  breeze  that  round  her  blows, 
Turns  her  warm  cheek,  her  unshorn  tresses  throws  ; 
With  grateful  hand  her  treasured  balm  bequeaths, 
For  every  sigh  the  enamour'd  rover  breathes, 
And  even  smiles  to  feel  the  flutterer  sip 
The  virgin  dew  that  cools  her  rosy  lip. 
There,through  the  clouds,  stupendous  mountains  rise, 
And  lift  their  icy  foreheads  to  the  skies  ; 
There,  blooming  valleys  and  secure  retreats 
Bathe  all  thy  senses  in  voluptuous  sweets  : 
Reclining  there,  beneath  a  bending  tree, 
Fraught  with  the  fragrant  labours  of  the  bee, 
Admire,  with  me,  the  birds  of  varied  hue, 
That  hang,  like  flowers  of  orange  and  of  blue, 
Among  the  broad  magnolia's  cups  of  snow, 
Quaffing  the  perfumes,  from  those  cups  that  flow. 

But,  is  all  peace,  beneath  the  mountain  shade  ? 
Do  Love  and  Mercy  haunt  that  sunny  glade, 


PALESTINE.  25 

And  sweetly  rest  upon  that  lovely  shore, 
When  light  retires,  and  nature  smiles  no  more  ? 
No  : — there,  at  midnight,  the  hoarse  tiger  growls  : 
There,  the  gaunt  wolf  sits  on  his  rock,  and  howls  : 
And  there,  in  painted  pomp,  the  yelling  Indian 
prowls. 

Round  the  bold  front  of  yon  projecting  cliff, 
Shoots,  on  white  wings,  the  missionary's  skiff, 
And,  walking  steadily  along  the  tide, 
Seems,  like  a  phantom,  o'er  the  wave  to  glide, 
Unfolding  to  the  breeze  her  light  cymarr, 
And  bearing  on  her  breast  the  Apostolick  star. 
That  brilliant  orb  the  bless'd  Redeemer  hurPd, 
From  his  pierc'd  hand,  ere  he  forsook  the  world. 
Lanch'd  by  that  hand,  the  sphere,  divinely  bright, 
Has  left,  on  eastern  clouds,  its  path  of  light, 
And,  in  a  radiant  curve,  descends  to  bless 
Parana's  wave,  Paraguay's  wilderness. 
See !  it  has  check'd  its  lucid  course,  and  now 
Lights  on  the  intrepid  Jesuit's  humble  prow,14 
Brightens  his  sail  with  its  celestial  glow, 
And  gilds  the  emerald  wave,  that  rolls  below, 


26  AIRS    OF 

Lo,  at  the  stern,  the  priest  of  Jesus  rears 
His  reverend  front,  ploughed  by  the  share  of  years. 
He  takes  his  harp : — the  spirits  of  the  air 
Breathe  on  his  brow,  and  interweave  his  hair, 
In  silky  flexure,  with  the  sounding  strings : — 
And  hark  ! — the  holy  missionary  sings. 
'Tis  the  Gregorean  chant : — with  him  unites, 
On  either  hand,  his  quire  of  neophytes, 
While  the  boat  cleaves  its  liquid  path  along, 
And  waters,  woods,  and  winds  protract  the  song. 

Those  unknown  strains  the  forest  war-whoop  hush  : 
Huntsmen  and  warriours  from  their  cabins  rush, 
Heed  not  the  foe,  that  yells  defiance  nigh, 
See  not  the  deer,  that  dashes  wildly  by, 
Drop  from  their  hand  the  bow  and  rattling  quiver, 
Crowd  to  the  shore,  and  plunge  into  the  river, 
Breast  the  green  waves,  the  enchanted  bark  that  toss, 
Leap  o'er  her  sides,  and  kneel  before  the  cross  : 

Hear  yon  poetick  pilgrim  of  the  west, 
Chant  Musick's  praise,  and  to  her  power  attest.15 
Who  now,  in  Florida's  untrodden  woods, 
Bedecks,  with  vines  of  jessamine,  her  floods, 


PALESTINE.  27 

And  flowery  bridges  o'er  them  loosely  throws  ; — 

Who  hangs  the  canvass  where  Atala  glows, 

On  the  live  oak,  in  floating  drapery  shrouded, 

That  like  a  mountain  rises,  lightly  clouded ; — • 

Who,  for  the  son  ofcOutalissi,  twines, 

Beneath  the  shade  of  ever  whispering  pines, 

A  funeral  wreath,  to  bloom  upon  the  moss, 

That  Time  already  sprinkles  on  the  cross, 

Rais'd  o'er  the  grave,  where  his  young  virgin  sleeps, 

And  Superstition  o'er  her  victim  weeps ; — 

Whom  now,  the  silence  of  the  dead  surrounds, 

Among  Scioto's  monumental  mounds  ; 

Save  that,  at  times,  the  musing  pilgrim  hears 

A  crumbling  oak  fall  with  the  weight  of  years, 

To  swell  the  mass,  that  Time  and  Ruin  throw, 

O'er  chalky  bones,  that  mouldering  lie  below, 

By  virtues  unembalm'd,  unstain'd  by  crimes, 

Lost  in  those  towering  tombs  of  other  times  ; 

For  where  no  bard  has  cherish'd  Virtue's  flame, 

No  ashes  sleep  in  the  warm  sun  of  Fame. — 

With  sacred  lore,  this  traveller  beguiles 

His  weary  way,  while  o'er  him  Fancy  smiles. 

Whether  he  kneels  in  venerable  groves, 

Or  through  the  wide  and  green  savanna  roves, 


28  AIRS   OF 

His  heart  leaps  lightly  on  each  breeze,  that  bears 
The  faintest  cadence  of  Idumea's  airs. 

Now,  he  recalls  the  lamentable  wail, 
That  pierc'd  the  shades  of  Rama's  palmy  vale18 
When  Murder  struck,  thron'd  on  an  infant's  bier, 
A  note,  for  Satan's,  and  for  Herod's  ear. 
Now,  on  a  bank,  o'erhuug  with  waving  wood, 
Whose  falling  leaves  flit  o'er  Ohio's  flood, 
The  pilgrim  stands  ;  and  o'er  his  memory  rushes 
The  mingled  tide  of  tears,  and  blood,  that  gushes 
Along  tke  valleys,  where  his  childhood  stray'd, 
And  round  the  temples  where  his  fathers  pray'd. 
How  fondly  then,  from  all  but  Hope  exil'd, 
To  Zion's  wo  recurs  Religion's  child  ! 
He  sees  the  tear  of  Judah's  captive  daughters 
Mingle,  in  silent  flow,  with  Babel's  waters ; 
While  Salem's  harp,  by  patriot  pride  unstrung, 
Wrapp'd  in  the  mist,  that  o'er  the  river  hung, 
Felt  but  the  breeze,  that  wanton'd  o'er  the  billow, 
And  the  long,  sweeping  fingers  of  the  willow. 

And  could  not  Musick  sooth  the  captive's  wo  ? — 
But  should  that  harp  be  strung  for  Judah's  foe  ? 


PALESTINE.  29 

While  thus  the  enthusiast  roams  along  the  stream, 
Balanc'd  between  a  revery  and  a  dream, 
Backward  he  springs :  and,  through  his  bounding 

heart, 

The  cold  and  curdling  poison  seems  to  dart. 
For,  in  the  leaves,  beneath  a  quivering  brake, 
Spinning  his  death-note,  lies  a  coiling  snake, 
Just  in  the  act,  with  greenly  venom'd  fangs, 
To  strike  the  foot,  that  heedless  o'er  him  hangs. 
Bloated  with  rage,  on  spiral  folds  he  rides  ; 
His  rough  scales  shiver  on  his  spreading  sides  ; 
Dusky  and  dim  his  glossy  neck  becomes, 
And  freezing  poisons  thicken  on  his  gums  ; 
His  parch'd  and  hissing  throat  breathes  hot  and  dry  } 
A  spark  of  hell  lies  burning  on  his  eye  : 
While,  like  a  vapour,  o'er  his  writhing  rings, 
Whirls  his  light  tail,  that  threatens  while  it  sings 

Soon  as  dumb  Fear  removes  her  icy  fingers 
From  off  the  heart,  where  gazing  wonder  lingers, 
The  pilgrim,  shrinking  from  a  doubtful  fight, 
Aware  of  danger,  too,  in  sudden  flight, 
From  his  soft  flute  throws  Musick's  air  around, 
And  meets  his  foe,  upon  enchanted  ground. 
3 


30  AIRS   OF 

See  !  as  the  plaintive  melody  is  flung, 

The  lightning  flash  fades  on  the  serpent's  tongue  ; 

The  uncoiling  reptile  o'er  each  shining  fold 

Throws  changeful  clouds  of  azure,  green  and  gold  : 

A  softer  lustre  twinkles  in  his  eye  ; 

His  neck  is  burnished  with  a  glossier  dye ; 

His  slippery  scales  grow  smoother  to  the  sight, 

And  his  relaxing  circles  roll  in  light. — 

Slowly  the  charm  retires  : — with  waving  sides, 

Along  its  track  the  graceful  listner  glides ; 

While  Musick  throws  her  silver  cloud  around, 

And  bears  her  votary  off,  in  raagick  folds  of  sound. 

On  Arno's  bosom,  as  he  calmly  flows, 
And  his  cool  arms  round  Vallombrosa  throws, 
Rolling  his  crystal  tide  through  classick  vales, 
Alone,— at  night, — the  Italian  boatman  sails. 
High  o'er  Mont  Alto  walks,  in  maiden  pride, 
Night's  queen  : — he  sees  her  image  on  that  tide, 
Now,  ride  the  wave  that  curls  its  infant  crest, 
Around  his  prow,  then  rippling  sinks  to  rest ; 
Now,  glittering  dance  around  his  eddying  oar, 
Whose  every  sweep  is  echoed  from  the  shore : 
Now,  far  before  him,  on  a  liquid  bed 
Of  waveless  water,  rest  her  radiant  head. 


PALESTINE,  31 

How  mild  the  empire  of  that  virgin  queen ! 

How  dark  the  mountain's  shade  !  how  still  the  scene  ! 

Hush'd  by  her  silver  sceptre,  zephyrs  sleep 

On  dewy  leaves,  that  overhang  the  deep, 

Nor  dare  to  whisper  through  the  boughs,  nor  stir 

The  valley's  willow,  nor  the  mountain's  fir, 

Nor  make  the  pale  and  breathless  aspen  quiver, 

Nor  brush,  with  ruffling  wing,  that  glassy  river. 

Hark  ! — 'tis  a  convent's  bell : — its  midnight  chime. 
For  musick  measures  even  the  march  of  Time  : — 
O'er  bending  trees,  that  fringe  the  distant  shore, 
Gray  turrets  rise  : — the  eye  can  catch  no  more. 
The  boatman,  listening  to  the  tolling  bell, 
Suspends  his  oar  : — a  low  and  solemn  swell, 
From  the  deep  shade,  that  round  the  cloister  lies, 
Rolls  through  the  air,  and  on  the  water  dies. 
What  melting  song  wakes  the  cold  ear  of  N^ight  ? 
A  funeral  dirge,  that  pale  nuns,  rob'd  in  white, 
Chant  round  a  sister's  dark  and  narrow  bed, 
To  charm  the  parting  spirit  of  the  dead. 
Triumphant  is  the  spell !  with  rapttir'd  ear, 
That  uncaged  spirit  hovering  lingers  near  ;-»- 


32  AIRS  OF 

Why  should  she  mount  ?  why  pant  for  brighter  bliss, 
A  lovelier  scene,  a  sweeter  song,  than  this  ! 

On  Caledonia's  hills,  the  ruddy  morn 
Breathes  fresh  : — the  huntsman  winds  his  clamo 
rous  horn. 

The  youthful  minstrel  from  his  pallet  springs, 
Seizes  his  harp,  and  tunes  its  slumbering  strings. 
Lark-like  he  mounts  o'er  gray  rocks,  thunder-riven, 
Lark-like  he  cleaves  the  white  mist,  tempest-driven, 
And  lark-like  carols,  as  the  cliff  he  climbs, 
Whose  oaks  were  vocal  with  his  earliest  rhymes. 
With  airy  foot  he  treads  that  giddy  height  ; 
His  heart  all  rapture,  and  his  eye  all  light ; 
His  voice  all  melody,  his  yellow  hair 
Floating  and  dancing  on  the  mountain  air, 
Shaking  from  its  loose  folds  the  liquid  pearls, 
That  gather  clustering  on  his  golden  curls  ; — 
And,  for  a  moment,  gazes  on  a  scene, 
Ting'd  with  deep  shade,  dim  gold,  and  brightening 

green ; 

Then  plays  a  mournful  prelude,  while  the  star 
Of  morning  fades  : — but  when  heaven's  gates  unbar, 


PALESTINE.  33 

And  on  the  world  a  tide  of  glory  rushes, 
Burns  on  the  hill,  and  down  the  valley  blushes  ; 
The  mountain  bard  in  livelier  numbers  sings, 
While  sunbeams  warm  and  gild  the  conscious  strings, 
And  his  young  bosom  feels  the  enchantment  strong, 
Of  light,  and  joy,  and  minstrelsy,  and  song. 

From  rising  morn,  the  tuneful  stripling  roves, 
Through  smiling  valleys  and  religious  groves  ; 
Hears  there,  the  flickering  blackbird  strain  his  throat, 
Here,  the  lone  turtle  pour  her  mournful  note, 
Till  night  descends,  and  round  the  wanderer  flings 
The  dew  drops  dripping  from  her  dusky  wings. 
Far  from  his  native  vale,  and  humble  shed, 
By  nature's  smiles,  and  nature's  musick  led, 
This  child  of  melody  has  thoughtless  stray'd, 
Till  darkness  wraps  him  in  her  deep'ning  shade. 
The  scene  he  smil'd  on,  when  array'd  in  light, 
Now  lowers  around  him  with  the  frown  of  night. 

With  weary  foot  the  nearest  height  he  climbs, 
Crown'd  with  huge  oaks,  giants  of  other  times ; 
Who  feel,  but  fear  not  autumn's  breath,  and  cast 
Their  summer  robes  upon  the  roaring  blast, 
3* 


34  AIRS  OF 

And  glorying  in  their  majesty  of  form, 

Toss  their  old  arms,  and  challenge  every  storm. 

Below  him,  Ocean  rolls  : — deep  in  a  wood, 

Built  on  a  rock,  and  frowning  o'er  the  flood, 

Like  the  dark  Cyclops  of  Trinacria's  isle, 

Rises  an  old  and  venerable  pile. 

Gothick  its  structure  ;  once  a  cross  it  bore, 

And  pilgrims  throng'd  to  hail  it  and  adore. 

Mitres  and  crosiers  awed  the  trembling  friar, 

The  solemn  organ  led  the  chanting  quire, 

When  in  those  vaults  the  midnight  dirge  was  sung, 

And  o'er  the  dead,  a.  rcquiescat  rung. — 

IVow,  all  is  still :— the  midnight  anthem  hush'd  :- 

The  cross  is  crumbled,  and  the  crosier  crush'd. 

And  is  all  still  ? — No  :  round  those  ruin'd  altars, 

With  feeble  foot  as  our  musician  falters, 

Faint,  weary,  lost,  benighted,  and  alone, 

He  sinks,  all  trembling,  on  the  threshold  stone. 

Here,  nameless  fears  the  young  enthusiast  chill  : 

They're  superstitious,  but  religious  still. 

He  hears  the  sullen  murmur  of  the  seas, 

That  tumble  round  the  stormy  Orcades, 

Or,  deep  beneath  him,  burst  with  boundless  roar. 

Their  sparkling  surges  on  that  savage  shore , 


\ 


PALESTINE. 


And  thinks  a  spirit  rolls  the  weltering  waves 
Through  rifted  rocks,  and  hollow  rumbling  caves. 

Round  the  dark  windows  clasping  ivy  clings, 
Twines  round  the  porch,  and  in  the  sea-breeze 

swings  ; 

Its  green  leaves  rustle  : — heavy  winds  arise  : 
The  low  cells  echo,  and  the  dark  hall  sighs. 
Is  that  some  demon's  shriek,  so  loud  and  shrill, 
Whose  flapping  robes  sweep  o'er  the  stormy  hill  ? 
No — 'tis  the  mountain  blast,  that  nightly  rages, 
Around  those  walls,  gray  with  the  moss  of  ages. 
Is  that  a  ghost's  red  eye,  beneath  his  shroud  ? 
No — 'tis  a  star  that  glimmers  through  a  cloud. 
fs  that  a  lamp  sepulchral,  whose  pale  light 
Shines  in  yon  vault,  before  a  spectre  white  ? 
No — 'tis  a  meteor,  swimming  through  the  hall, 
Or  glow-worm,  burning  greenly  on  the  wall. 
What  mighty  organ  swells  its  deepest  tone, 
And  sighing  heaves  a  low,  funereal  moan, 
That  murmurs  through  the  cemetery's  glooms. 
And  throws  a  deadlier  horrour  round  its  tombs  ? 
Sure,  some  dread  spirit  o'er  the  keys  presides  ! 
Tho  same  that,  lifts  these  darkly  thundering  tides ; 


36  AIRS   OF 

Or,  homeless,  shivers  o'er  an  unclosed  grave  ; 
Or  shrieking,  off  at  sea,  bestrides  the  white-maneci 
wave. 

Yes  ! — 'tis  some  Spirit  that  those  skies  deforms, 
And  wraps  in  billowy  clouds  that  hill  of  storms. 
Yes  : — 'tis  a  Spirit  in  those  vaults  that  dwells, 
Illumes  that  hall,  and  murmurs  in  those  cells. 
Yes  : — 'tis  some  Spirit  on  the  blast  that  rides, 
And  wakes  the  eternal  tumult  of  the  tides. 
That  Spirit  broke  the  poet's  morning  dream, 
Led  him  o'er  woody  hill  and  babbling  stream, 
Lur'd  his  young  foot  to  every  vale  that  rung, 
And  charm'd  his  ear  in  every  bird  that  sung; 
With  various  concerts  cheer'd  his  hours  of  light, 
But  kept  the  mightiest  in  reserve  till  night  ; 
Then,  thron'd  in  darkness,  peal'd  that  wildest  air, 

Froze  his  whole  soul,  and  chain'd  the  listner  there. 

• 

That  Mighty  Spirit  once  from  Teman  came  : 
Clouds  were  his  chariot,  and  his  coursers  flame.17 
Bow'd  the  perpetual  hills  : — the  rivers  fled  : — 
Green  Ocean  trembled  to  his  deepest  bed  : — 
Earth  shrunk  aghast  : — eternal  mountains  burn'd, 
And  his  red  axle  thunder' d  as  it  turn'd. 


PALESTINE.  37 

O  !  Thou  Dread  Spirit !  Being's  End  and  Source  ! 
O!  check  thy  chariot  in  its  fervid  course. 
Bend  from  thy  throne  of  darkness  and  of  fire, 
And  with  one  smile  immortalize  our  lyre. 
Amid  the  cloudy  lustre  of  thy  throne, 
Though  wreathy  tubes,  unheard  on  earth,  are  blown. 
Swelling  one  ceaseless  song  of  praise  to  tliee, 
Eternal  Author  of  Eternity  ! 
Still  hast  thou  stoop'd  to  hear  a  shepherd  play, 
To  prompt  his  measures,  and  approve  his  lay. 
Hast  thou  grown  old,  Thou,  who  forever  livest ! 
Hast  thou  forgotten,  Thou,  who  memory  givest ! 
How,  on  the  day  thine  ark,  with  loud  acclaim, 
From  Zion's  hill  to  Mount  Moriah  came, 
Beneath  the  wings  of  Cherubim  to  rest, 
In  a  rich  vail  of  Tyrian  purple  drest ; 
When  harps  and  cymbals  join'd  in  echoing  clang, 
When  psalteries  tinkled,  and  when  trumpets  ran£, 
And  white  rob'd  Levites  round  thine  altar  sang ; 
Thou  didst  descend,  and,  rolling  through  the  crowd, 
Inshrine  thine  ark  and  altar  in  thy  shroud, 
And  fill  the  temple  with  thy  mantling  cloud.18 
And  now,  Almighty  Father,  well  we  know, 
When  humble  strains  from  grateful  bosoms  floyv% 


38  AIRS    OF 

Those  humble  strains  grow  richer  as  they  rise, 
And  shed  a  balmier  freshness  on  the  skies. 

What  though  no  Cherubim  are  here  displayed, 
No  gilded  walls,  no  cedar  colonnade, 
No  crimson  curtains  hang  around  our  quire, 
Wrought  by  the  ingenious  artisan  of  Tyre ; 
No  doors  of  fir  on  golden  hinges  turn  ; 
No  spicy  gums  in  golden  censers  burn  ; 
No  frankincense,  in  rising  volumes,  shrouds 
The  fretted  roof  in  aromatick  clouds  ; 
No  royal  minstrel,  from  his  ivory  throne, 
Gives  thee  his  father's  numbers  or  his  own; — 
If  humble  love,  if  gratitude  inspire, 
Our  strain  shall  silence  even  the  temple's  quire, 
And  rival  Michael's  trump,  nor  yield  to  Gabriel's 
lyre. 

In  what  rich  harmony,  what  polished  lays, 
Should  man  address  thy  throne,  when  Nature  pays 
Her  wild,  her  tuneful  tribute  to  the  sky  ! 
Yes,  Lord,  she  sings  thee,  but  she  knows  not  why. 
The  fountain's  gush,  the  long  resounding  shore, 
The  zephyr's  whisper,  and  the  tempest's  roar, 


PALESTINE.  39 

The  rustling  leaf,  in  autumn's  fading  woods, 

The  wintry  storm,  the  rush  of  vernal  floods, 

The  summer  bower,  by  cooling  breezes  fann'd, 

The  torrent's  fall,  by  dancing  rainbows  spann'd, 

The  streamlet,  gurgling  through  its  rocky  glen, 

The  long  grass,  sighing  o'er  the  graves  of  men, 

The  bird  that  crests  yon  dew-bespangled  tree, 

Shakes  his  bright  plumes,  and  trills  his  descant  free, 

The  scorching  bolt,  that  from  thine  armoury  hurPd, 

Burns  its  red  path,  and  cleaves  a  shrinking  world ; 

All  these  are  musick  to  Religion's  ear : — 

Musick,  thy  hand  awakes,  for  man  to  hear. 

Thy  hand  invested  in  their  azure  robes, 

Thy  breath  made  buoyant  yonder  circling  globes, 

That  bound  and  blaze  along  the  elastick  wires, 

That  viewless  vibrate  on  celestial  lyres, 

And  in  that  high  and  radiant  concave  tremble, 

Beneath  whose  dome  adoring  hosts  assemble, 

To  catch  the  notes,  from  those  bright  spheres  that 

flow, 
Which  mortals  dream  of,  but  which  angels  know. 

Before  thy  throne,  three  sister  Graces  kneel ; 
Their  holy  influence  let  our  bosoms  feel ! 


40  AIRS  OF  PALESTINE. 

FAITH,  that  with  smiles  lights  up  our  dying  eyes  ; 
HOPE,  that  directs  them  to  the  opening  skies  ; 
And  CHARITY,I!)  the  loveliest  of  the  three, 
That  can  assimilate  a  worm  to  thee. 
For  her  our  organ  breathes  ;  to  her  we  pay 
The  heart-felt  homage  of  an  humble  lay  ; 
And  while  to  her  symphonious  chords  we  string, 
And  Silence  listens  wjiile  to  her  we  sing, 
While  round  thine  altar  swells  our  evening  song, 
And  vaulted  roofs  the  dying  notes  prolong, 
The  strain  we  pour  to  her,  wilt  thou  approve, 
For  LOYE  is  CHARITY,  and  THOU  art  LOVE. 


NOTES. 


NOTES. 


1  That  rending  anthem  on  the  wild  was  flung, 
From  Miriam's  timbrel  and  from  Moses'  tongue. 

For  the  song  of  Moses,  on  this  occasion,  see  Exodus  xv, 
1-22. 

2  At  Nebo's  base,  that  mighty  bard  resigns 
His  life  and  empire,  in  prophetick  lines. 

See  the  whole  of  the  pathetick  and  eloquent  valedictory 
address  of  Moses  to  the  Israelites,  in  the  xxxii.  chapter  of 
Deuteronomy,  from. the  beginning  to  the  43d  verse.  Hii 
death,  and  other  events  here  mentioned,  follow  in  regular 
course. 

3  Hangs  over  Jericho's  devoted  towers, 

And,  like  the  storm  o'er  Sodom,  redly  lowers. 

For  the  account  of  the  destruction  of  Jericho,  by  the  Jew?, 
under  the  command  of  Joshua,  see  Joshua  vi.  particularly 
verse  20th,  "  So  the  people  shouted,  when  the  priests 
blew  the  trumpets  j  and  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  people 


44  NOTES. 

heard  the  sound  of  the  trumpets,  and  the  people  shouted 
with  a  great  shout,  that  the  wall  fell  down  flat,  so  that 
the  people  went  up  into  the  city,  every  man  straight  before 
him,  and  they  took  the  city." 

4  And  cold  and  pale  o'er  Ajalon  she  hung. 

Then  spake  Joshua  to  the  Lord,  in  the  day  when  the 
Lord  delivered  up  the  Amorites  before  the  children  of 
Israel,  '  Sun,  stand  thou  still  upon  Gibeon,  and  thou  Moon, 
in  the  valley  of  Ajalon.  And  the  sun  stood  still,  and  the 
inoon  stayed,  until  the  people  had  avenged  themselves 
lapon  their  enemies.' — Josh.  x.  12, 13. 

s  And  builds  on  Libanus  his  humble  shed. 

Horeb  et  Sinai,  le  Carmel  et  le  Liban,  le  torrent  de 
Cedron,  et  la  valtee  de  Josaphat,  redise  encore  la  glorie 
de  Inhabitant  de  la  cellule  et  de  Panachorete  du  rocksr. — 
Genie  du  Christianisme,  torn  iv.  p.  48,  Lyons  Edit. 

«  But  o'er  his  face  his  flowing  mantle  flings, 
And  hears  a  whisper  from  the  King  of  Kings. 

And  after  the  earthquake  a  fire ;  but  the  Lord  was  not 
in  the  fire  j  and  after  the  fire,  a  still  small  voice.  And  it 
was  so,  when  Elijah  heard  it,  that  he  wrapped  his  face  in 
his  mantle,  and  went  out,  and  stood  in  the  entering  in  of 
the  cave.  And  behold,  there  came  a  voice  unto  him,  and 
said,  what  dost  thou  here,  Elijah  p — 1  Kings,  xix.  12 — IS. 

7  In  what  tremendous  pomp  Jehovah  shone, 
When  on  that  mount  he  fixed  his  burning  throne ! 


NOTES.  45 

See  the  sublime  account  of  the  descent  of  God  upon 
Mount  Sinai.—  Exodus  xix.  particularly  from  the  16th  to 
the  19th  verse,  as  also#e&.  xii.  18—21. 

8  Even  now,  the  heralds  of  his  monarch  tear 
The  son  of  Jesse  from  his  fleecy  care. 

Wherfore  Saul  sent  out  messengers  unto  Jesse,  and  said, 
Send  me  David  thy  son,  which  is  with  the  sheep.  And 
Jesse  took  an  ass,  laden  with  bread,  and  a  bottle  of  wine, 
and  a  kid,  and  sent  them  by  David  his  son  unto  Saul.  And 
David  came  to  Saul,  and  stood  before  him  ;  and  he  loved 
him  greatly,  and  he  became  his  armour-bearer.  And  Saul 
sent  to  Jesse,  saying,  Let  David,  I  pray  thee,  stand  before 
me ;  for  he  hath  found  favour  in  my  eight.  And  it  came 
to  pass,  that  when  the  evil  spirit  from  God  was  upon  Saul, 
that  David  took  an  harp,  and  played  with  his  hand  ;  so 
Saul  was  refreshed,  and  was  well,  and  the  evil  spirit  de 
parted  from  him....l  Sam.  xvi.  19.... 23. 

8  The  night  was  moonless :  Judah's  shepherds  kept 
Their  starlight  watch  j — their  flocks  around  them  slept. 

And  there  were  in  the  same  country,  shepherds  abiding 
in  the  field,  keeping  watch  over  their  flocks,  by  night. 
And  lo,  the  angel  of  the  Lord  came  upon  them,  and  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  shone  about  them.  See  the  whole  ac 
count,  Luke  ii.  8 — 15. 

10  Saw,  in  the  stillness  of  a  starry  night, 
The  Swan  and  Eagle  wing  their  silent  flight. 


46  NOTES. 

To  the  reader,  who  is  but  superficially  acquainted  with 
astronomy,  m  explanatory  note  is  here  necessary.  To 
others  it  is  enough  to  observe,  that  the  Swan,  the  Eagle^ 
Berenice's  lock,  Bootes,  the  Pleiades,  the  Lyre,  and  Auriga 
or  the  Charioteer,  are  the  names  of  constellations,  or  the 
parts  of  constellations,  visible  in  the  northern  hemis 
phere — of  course  in  Palestine. — Cynosure  is  the  classical 
name  of  the  Pole-star. 

11  With  thundering  crash,  are  burst  bolts,bars  and  locks ; 
Rent  are  their  chains,  and  shivered  are  their  stocks. 

And  when  they  had  laid  many  stripes  upon  them,  (Paul 
and  Silas)  they  cast  them  into  prison,  charging  the  jailer 
to  keep  them  safely,  who  having  received  such  a  charge, 
thrust  them  into  the  prison,  and  made  their  feet  fast  in  the 
stocks.  And  at  midnight  Paul  and  Silas  prayed,  and  sang 
praises  unto  God,  and  the  prisoners  heard  them.  And  sud 
denly  there  was  a  great  earthquake,  so  that  the  founda 
tions  of  the  prison  were  shaken,  and  immediately  the  doors 
were  opened,  and  every  one's  bands  were  loosed.— A ds, 
xvi.  23—26. 

12  They  cross  the  stream  that  bathes  its  foot,  and  dashes 
Around  the  tomb  where  sleep  a  monarch's  ashes. 

The  valley  of  Jehoshaphat  is  between  Jerusalem  and 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  on  the  east.  Through  this  valley 
flows  the  brook  Kedron,  or  Cedron  :  on  the  eastern  bank 
of  this  river  stands  the  tomb  of  Jehoshaphat. 


NOTES.  47 

-they  pour  the  song  of  sorrow, 


With  their  lov'd  Lord,- 


In  this  deeply  interesting  scene,  I  have  taken  the  lib 
erty  of  varying  the  order  in  which  the  events  of  the  evening 
before  the  crucifixion  occurred ;  in  that  I  have  supposed 
the  hymn  to  be  sung  after  crossing  the  Kedron,  and  ascend 
ing  the  mount  of  Olives....  rat  her  than  in  he  supper 
chamber,  as  stated  by  Matthew.  With  this  acknowledg 
ment,  I  presume  the  license  will  be  excused.  I  considered 
the  scene  thus  laid,  more  poetical,  and  not  less  solemn  or 
religious.... See  Matth.  xxvi.  30,  31. 

14  Lights  on  the  intrepid  Jesuit's  humble  prow. 

Let  not  the  protestant  reader  be  alarmed  at  seeing  a 
Jesuit  in  company  with  Musick  and  Religion.  I  do  as 
sure  him,  it  is  a  supposable  case.  1  am  not  ignorant  of  the 
fact,  that  many  accounts  of  the  arts  and  ambition  of  this 
order  of  Christians,  have  been  given  to  the  world,  which 
are  not  the  most  favourable  to  the  purity  or  disinterested 
ness  of  their  piety  j  and  I  am  well  aware,  that,  if  poetry 
and  fiction  are  synonymous  terms,  there  is  but  little  poetry 
in  too  many  of  these  accounts.  But  let  the  protestant  rea 
der  recollect,  that  most  of  these  views  have  been  drawn  by 
protestant  pencils...."  Let  us  lions  be  the  painters,"  say 
the  Jesuits,  and  we  will  shew  you  a  very  different  picture. 
One  of  their  pieces  of  coloured  canvass  I  will  lay  before 
my  readers,  as  well  to  shew  that  I  do  not  think  the  above 
request  unreasonable,  as  to  explain  what  may  want  expla 
nation,  in  this  scene  of  my  poem  : 


48  NOTES. 

"  II  restait  encore,  aux  pieds  des  CordiliSrea,  vers  le 
cote  qui  regarde  1'  Atlantique,  entre  1'  Orerwque  et  Rio 
de  la  Plata,  un  pays  immense,  rempli  de  Sauvages,  oft 
les  Espagnols  n'avaient  point  porte  la  devastation.  Ce 
fut  dans  ces  epaisses  forets  que  les  missionaires  entreprirent 
de  former  une  republique  chretienne  et  de  donner  du  moins 
a  un  petit  nombre  d'lndiens,  le  bonheur  quails  n'avaient  pu 
procurer  a  tous. 

*'  Ils  commence  rent  par  obtenir  de  la  cour  d'Espagne  la 
liberte  de  tous  les  Sauvages  qu'ils  parviendraient  a  reunir. 
A  cette  nouvelle,  les  colons  se  souleverent  j  ce  ne  fut  qu'a 
force  d'esprit  et  d'addresse  que  les  JSsuites  surprirent,  pour 
ainsi  dire,  la  permission  de  verser  leur  sang  dans  les  forets 
du  Nouveau-Monde.  Enfin,  ayant  triomphe  de  la  cupidite 
et  de  la  malice  humaine ;  meditant  un  des  plus  nobles 
desseins  qu'ait  jamais  concus  un  cceur  d'homme,  ils  s'era- 
barquerent  pour  Rio  de  la  Plata. 

"  C'est  dans  ce  grand  fleuve  que  vient  se  perdre  cet 
autre  fleuve,  qui  a  donne  son  nom  an  pays  et  aux  missions, 
dont  nous  retracons  1'histoire.  Paraguay,  dans  la  langue 
des  Sauvages,  signifie  le  Fleuve  courronne,  parce  qu'il 
prend  sa  source  dans  le  lac  Xarayes,  qui  lui  sert  comme 
de  couronne.  Avant  d'aller  grossir  Rio  de  la  Plata,  il 
recoit  les  eaux  du  Parama  et  de  1'  Uruguay.  Des  forets 
qui  renferment  dans  leur  sein  d'autres  forets  tombees  de 
vieillesse,  des  marais  et  des  plaines  entierement  inondees 
dans  la  saisou  des  pluies,  des  montagnes  qui  elevaut  dfes 
deserts,  sur  des  deserts,  forment  une  partie  des  vastes 
regions  que  le  Paraguay  arrose.  Le  gibier  de  toute  espece 
y  abonde,  ainsi  que  les  tigres  et  les  ours.  Les  bois  sont 
remplis  d'abeilles,  qui  font  une  cire  fort  blanche,  et  un 
miel  tres  parfume.  On  y  voit  des  oiseaux  d'un  plu 
mage  §clatant,  et  qui  ressemblent  a  de  grandes  fleurs 


NOTES.  49 

rouges  et  bleues,  sur  la  verdure  des  arbres.  Un  mission- 
oaire  Francais,  qui  s'etait  egare  dans  ces  solitudes,  en 
fait  la  peinture  suivante. 

41  Je  continuai  ma  route  sans  savoir  a  quel  terrne  elle 
devait  aboutir,  et  sans  qu'il  y  eut  personne  qui  put  me 
Penseigner.  Je  trouvais  quelquefois  au  milieu  de  ces  bois 
des  endroits  enchantes.  Tout  ce  que  1'etude  et  Pindustrie 
des  hommes  ont  pu  imaginer  pour  rend  re  un  lieu  agreable, 
n'approche  point  de  c.e  que  la  simple  nature  y  arait  ras- 
semble  de  beautes. 

"  Ces  lieux  charmans  rae  rappelerent  les  idees  que 
j'avais  eues  atitrefoi^,  en  lisant  les  vies  des  anciens  soli 
taires  de  la  Thebai'de ;  il  me  vint  en  pensee  de  passer  le 
reste  de  mes  jours  dans  ces  forets  ou  la  Providence  m'avait 
-conduit,  pour  y  vaquer  uniquement  a  Paffaire  de  raon 
salut,  loin  de  tout  commerce  avec  les  hommes ;  mais  com- 
me  je  n'etais  pas  le  maitre  de  ma  destinee,  et  que  les 
ordres  du  Seigneur  m'etaient  certainment  marques  par 
ceux  de  mes  superieurs,  je  rejetai  cetle  pensee  comme  une 
illusion." 

"  Les  Indiens  que  Pon  rencontrait  dans  ces  retraites,  ne 
Jeur  ressemblaient  que  par  le  cote  affreux.  Race  indolente, 
stupide  et  feroce,  elle  montrait  dans  toute  sa  laideur 
Phomme  primitif  degrade  par  sa  chute.  Rien  ne  prouve 
davantage  la  degeneration  de  la  nature  humaine,  que  la 
petitesse  du  Sauvage,  dans  le  grandeur  du  desert. 

44  Arrives  a  Buenos  Ayris,  les  missionnaires  remonte- 
rent  Rio  de,  la  Plata,  et  entrant  dans  les  eaux  du  Para' 
guay,  se  disperserent  dans  ses  bois  sauvages.  Les  ancien- 
nes  relations  nous  les  represented,  un  breviaire  sous  le 
bras  gauche,  une  grande  croix  a  la  main  droite,  et  sans 
autre  provision  que  leur  confiance  en  Dieu.  Us  nous  les 
peigueiit,  se  faisant  jour  a  travers  les  forets,  marchant  daas 
5 


fi/l  cr  Q  r  A  A 


50  NOTES. 

des  terres  marecageuses  ou  ils  avaienl  de  I'eau  jusqu'  a  la 
ceinture,  gravissant  des  roches  escarpees,  et  furelani  clans 
les  aritres  et  les  precipices,  au  risque  d'y  trouver  des  ser- 
pens  et  des  betes  feroces,  au  lieu  des  hommes  qu'ils  y 
cherchaient. 

"  Plusieurs  d'entr'eux  y  moururent  de  faim  et  de 
fatigues  ;  d'autres  furent  massacres  et  devores  par  les  Sau- 
vages.  Le  pere  LAzardi  fut  trouve  perce  de  fleches  sur 
un  rocher ;  son  corps  etait  a  demi  dechire  par  les  oiseaux 
de  proic,  et  son  breviare  etait  ouvert  aupres  de  lui  a 
1'office  des  iMorts.  Quand  un  missionnaire  rencontrait  ainsi 
les  restes  d'un  de  ses  compagnons,  il  s'empressait  de  leur 
rend  re  les  honneurs  funehres ;  et  plein  d'une  grande  joie, 
il  chautait  un  Te  Deum  solitaire  sur  le  tombeau  du  Martyr, 
De  pareilles  scenes,  renouvelees  a  chaque  instant, 
etonnaient  les  hordes  barbares.  Quelquefois  elles  s'ar- 
retaient  autour  du  pretre  inconuu  qui  leur  parlait  de  Dieu, 
et  elles  regardaient  le  ciel  que  1'apotre  leur  mbntrait  j 
quelquefois  elles  le  fuyaient  comme  un  enchanteur,  et  se 
sentaient  saisies  d'une  frayeur  etrange :  le  Religieux  lei 
suivait  en  leur  tendant  les  mains  au  nom  de  Jesus-Christ. 
S'il  ue  pouvait  les  arreter,  il  plantait  sa  grande  croix  dans 
un  lieu  decouvert,  et  s'allait  cacher  dans  les  bois.  Les 
Sauvages  s'approchaient  peu  a  peu  pour  examiner  1'etend- 
ard  de  paix,  eleve  dans  la  solitude;  un  aimant  secret 
semblait  les  attirer  a  ce  signe  de  leur  salut.  Alors  le 
missionnaire  sortant  tout-a-coup  de  son  einbuscade,  et  pro- 
fitant  de  la  surprise  des  Barbares,  les  invitait  quitter  une 
vie  miserable  pour  jouir  des  douceurs  de  la  societe. 

"  Quand  les  Jesuites  se  fuerent  attache  quelques  Indiens, 
Jls  eurent  recours  a  un  autre  moyen  pourgagner  des  ames. 
Ils  avaient  remarque  que  les  Sauvages  de  ces  bords  etaient 
fort  sensibles  a  la  musique;  on  dit  meme  que  les  eaux  du 


NOTES.  51 

Paraguay  rendent  la  voix  plus  belle.  Les'raissionnaireal'em- 
barquerent  done  sur  des  pirogues  avec  les  nouveaux  cate- 
chumenes ;  ils  remonterent  les  flcuves,  en  chantant  de  saints 
cantiques.  Les  neophytes  repetaient  les  airs,  eorarae  des 
oiseaux  prives  chantent  pour  attirer  dans  les  rets  de  Poise- 
leur  les  oiseaux  sauvages.  Les  Indiens  ne  manquerent  point 
dese  venir  prendre  an  douxpiege.  Ilsdescendaient  deleurs 
montagnes,  et  accouraient  an  bord  des  fleuves,  pour  mieux 
ecouter  ces  accens.  Plusieurs  d'entr'eux  se  jetaient  dans 
Ses  ondes,  et  suivaient  a  la  nage  la  nacelle  enchantee.  La 
Itine,  en  repandant  sa  lumiere  mysterieuse  sur  ces  scenes 
extraordinaires,  achevait  d?attendrir  les  cceurs.  L'arc  et 
ia  tieche  echappaierit  a  la  main  du  Sauvage;  Pavant-gout 
des  vertus  sociales,  et  les  premieres  douceurs  de  de  I'lm- 
manite,  entraient  dans  son  ame  confuse.  II  voyait  sa 
femme  et  son  enfant  pleurer  d'une  joie  inconnue ;  bientot 
rubjugue  par  un  attrait  irresistible,  il  tombait  au  pied  de 
Ja  croix,  et  melait  des  torrens  de  larmes  aux  eaux  rege- 
neratrices  qui  coulaient  sur  sa  tete. 

Ainsi  la  religion  chretienne  realisait  dans  les  forets  de 
i'Amerique,  ce  que  la  fable  raoonte  des  Amphion  et  des 
Orphee  :  reflexion  si  naturelle,  qu'elle  s'est  presentee 
rneme  aux  missionnaires  ;  tant  il  est  certain  qu'on  ne  dit 
iei  que  la  verite  en  ayant  Pair  de  raconter  une  fiction." — 
Chateuubriand,  Genie  du  Chris tianisme,  torn.  vm.  chap. 
iv.  p.  40—48, 

15  Hear  yon  poeticlc  pilgrim  of  the  west, 

Ciiant  Musick's  praise,  and  to  her  power  attest. 

Chateaubriand. — Perhaps  I  ought  to  apologize  to  this 
gentleman, — perhaps  I  owe  the  apology  to  the  reader, 
for  so  frequently  introducing  him.  The  truth  is,  I  find 


52  NOTES. 

him  vtry  useful.  If  the  facts  stated  by  him  are  adapted  to 
my  purpose,  I  have  a  right  to  use  them ;  if  the  truth  of 
his  stories  is  questionable,  his  is  the  responsibility,  not 
mine.  I  screen  myself  from  blame,  if 

| 

"  I  tell  the  tale  as  His  told  to  me." 

This  gentleman,  it  seems,  has  travelled  through  the  United 
States,  from  the  mouth  of  the  Mississippi  to  the  St.  Law 
rence.  In  Florida  and  the  western  States,  he  has  laid  the 
scene  of  his  u  Atala,"  an  exquisite  little  assemblage  of 
beauties  and  absurdities.  This  little  poem,  or  rather 
episode,  forms  a  part  of  his  great  work  *  Genie  du  Chris- 
tianisrne,'  or  the  Beauties  of  the  Christian  Religion.  It 
has  been  translated  separately,  and  will  be  read  with  plea~ 
sure  by  most  lovers  of  polite  literature.  The  allusions 
here  to  Atala  may  be  briefly  explained  by  observing,  that 
Chactas,  son  of  Outalissi,  is  the  hero,  and  Atala  the  hero 
ine  of  the  poem — that  Atala  poisons  herself  rather  than 
violate  an  oath  of  celibacy,  imposed  by  little  less  than  the 
legal  duress  per  minus;  and  this  act,  upon  which  a  coro 
ner's  iuquest  would  return  a  verdict  either  of  suicide,  or 
insanity,  is  considered  by  our  author  as  an  unequivocal 
proof  of  her  piety.  The  Florida  scenery— the  live  oak, 
mantled  in  its  loose  mossy  drapery — the  laurel — the  jessa 
mine  that  hangs  in  graceful  festoons  over  the  waters — are 
all  beautifully  described,  because  the  painting  is  from  the 
life.  His  notice  of  the  celebrated  and  wonderful  barrows, 
or  monumental  tumuli,  upon  our  western  rivers,  and  his 
story  of  the  serpent,  charmed  by  the  flute  of  the  Canadian, 
will  be  seen  in  the  passages  here  introduced  from  his  work. 
As  to  the  story  of  the  snake,  what  he  says  he  surv,  we 
may  perhaps  believe,  particularly  as  accounts  somewhat 


NOTES.  53 

similar  are  given  by  others.  Besides,  though  M.  de 
Chateaubriand  certainly  does  tell  tales,  that  occasionally 
happen  to  partake  of  the  marvellous,  I  do  not  know  that 
he  has  yet  been  publicly  convicted  of  stating  what  is  false, 
in  regard  to  what  has  fallen  under  his  own  observation. 
There  are  those,  indeed,  who  question  his  veracity  even 
there — where  he  has  nothing  to  do  with  saints  or  legends — 
and  I  must,  for  myself,  confess  that  my  own  opinion  of  his 
veracity  has  been  somewhat  shaken,  by  a  French  gentle 
man,  a  general  officer  under  Bonaparte,  and  for  sometime 
a  member  of  the  National  Institute,  who  tells  me  that  he 
knows  M.  de  Chateaubriand  personally,  though  not  inti 
mately — for  he  claims  to  be  a  man  of  honour,  and  appears 
to  be  so — and  that  he  knows  him  not  only  to  be,  but  to 
have  been,  in  the  pay  of  the  French  police,  as  a  spy  upon 
his  fellow  citizens— and  that  he  therefore  ought  to  be,  and 
is  universally  despised.  So  much  for  the  author  of  the 
Genie  du  Christianisme,  Martyrs,  Travels,  fyc.  Here,  then, 
follows  a  part  of  what  I  have  made  use  of,  remember 
ing  always  that  I  am  not  writing  history,  but  poetry. — Of 
the  "  Monumental  mounds7*  he  says  : 

u  On  a  decouvert  depuis  quelques  annees,  dans  I'Ame- 
rique  septentrionale,  des  monumens  extraordinaires  sur  les 
bords  du  Muskingum,  du  Miami,  du  Wabache,  de  POhio, 
et  sur-tout  du  Scioto,  ou  ils  occupent  un  espace  de  plus  de 
vingt  lieues  en  longueur.  Ce  sont  des  murs  en  terre  avec 
des  fosses,  des  glacis,  des  lunes,  demi-lunes  et  de  grands 
cones  qui  servent  de  sepulcres.  On  a  demande,  mais,  sang 
succes,  quel  peuple  a  laisse  de  pareilles  traces.  L'homme 
est  suspendu  dans  5e  present,  entre  le  passe  et  l'avenirr 
comme  sur  un  rocher  entre  deux  gouffres:  derriere  lui, 
devant  lui,  tout  est  tenebresj  a  peine  appercoit  il  quel 
ques  fantomes  qui,  remontant  do  fond  des  deux  abyiaea, 
6 


54  NOTES. 

surnagent  un  instant  a  leur  surface,  et  s'y  replongent  pour 
jamais." 

"  Pour  nous,  amant  solitaire  de  la  nature,  et  simple 
confesseur  de  la  Divinit§  nous  nous  sommesassis  sur  ces 
ruines.  Voyageur  sans  renom,  nous  avons  cause  avec 
ces  debris,  comrae  nous  mime  ignores.  Les  souvenirs 
confus  des  hommes,  et  les  vagues  reveries  du  desert,  se 
naelaient  au  fond  de  notreame.  La  nuit  etait  an  milieu  de  sa 
course ;  tout  §  tait  muet,  et  la  lune,  et  les  bois,  et  les  torn- 
beaux.  Seulement  a  longs  intervalles  on  entendait  la  chute 
de  quelque  arbre,  que  la  hache  du  temps  abattait,  dans  la 
profondeur  des  forets :  ainsi  tout  tombe,  tout  s'ane'antit.'* 

*'  Enfin,  ces  raonumens  prennent  leurs  racines  dans  des 
jours  beaucoup  plus  recules  que  cenx  ou  1'on  a  decouvert 
1' Antique.  Nous  avons  vu  sur  ces  ruines  un  chene 
decrepit,  qui  avait  poussS  sur  les  debris  d'un  autre  chene 
tombe  a  ses  pieds,  et  dont  il  ne  restait  plus  que  1'ecorce; 
celui-ci  S,  son  tour  s'etait  eleve  sur  un  troisieme,  et  ce 
troisieme,  sur  un  quartrieme.  L'emplacement  des  deux 
derniers  se  marquait  encore  par  Pintersection  de  deux 
cercles,  d'un  aubier  rouge  et  petrifie,  qu'on  decouvrait  a 
fleur  de  terre,  en  ecartant  nn  epais  humus  compose  de 
feuilles  et  de  mousses.  Accordez  suelement  trois  siecles 
de  vie  a  ces  quatre  chenes  successifs,  et  viola  une  epoque 
de  douze  cents  annees  que  la  nature  a  gravee  sur  ceg 
ruines."— Genie  du  Christianisme,  Tom.  i.  pp.  212... .215, 
276.... 7. 

As  to  the  nature  of  the  serpent  generally,  and  his  taste 
for  Musick,  in  particular,  this  is  the  account  of  our 
author : 

"  Notre  siecle  rejette  avec  hauteur  tout  ce  qui  tient  de 
la  merveiJle  :  sciences,  arts>  morale,  religion,  tout  reste 
desenchante.  Le  serpent  a  souvent  etc  1'objet  de  nos 


NOTES.  5£ 

observations;  et  si  nous  osons  le  dire,  nous  avons  cru 
reconnaitre  en  lui  cet  esprit  pernicieux  et  cette  subtilite 
que  lui  attribue  PEcriture.  Tout  est  mysterieux,  cache, 
etonnant  dans  cet  incomprehensible  reptile.  Ses  mouve- 
niens  different  de  ceuxf  de  tous  les  autres  animaux ;  on  ne 
saurait  dire  oii  git  le  principe  de  son  deplacement,  car  il 
n'a  ni  nageoires,  ni  pieds,  ni  ailes ;  et  cependant  il  fuit 
comme  une  ombre,  il  s'evanouit  magiquemeut,  il  reparait 
disparait  encore,  semblable  It  une  petite  fumSe  d'azur,  ou 
aux  eclairs  d'un  glaive  dans  les  tenebres.  TantSt  il  se  forme 
en  cercle,  et  darde  une  langue  de  feu ;  tantot,  debout 
sur  1'extremite  de  sa  queue,  il  marche  dans  une  attitude 
perpendiculaire,  comme  par  enchantement.  II  se  jette  en 
orbe,  monte  et  s'abaisse  en  spirale,  roule  ses  anneaux 
comme  une  onde,  circule  sur  les  branches  des  arbres, 
glisse  sous  I'herbe  des  prairies,  ou  sur  la  surface  des  eaux. 
Ses  couleurs  sont  aussi  peu  determinees  que  sa  marche  j 
elles  changent  si  tous  les  aspects  de  la  lumiere,  et  comme 
ses  mouvemens,  elles  ont  le  faux  brillant  et  les  varietes 
trompeusee  de  la  seduction. 

*'  Plus  Etonnant  encore  dans  le  reste  de  ses  moBurs,  il 
sait,  ainsi  qu'u«  homme  souille  de  meutre,  jeter  a  Pecart 
sa  robe  tachee  de  sang,  dans  la  crainte  d'etre  reconnu. 
Par  une  etrange  faculle  il  pent  faire  rentrer  dans  son  sein 
les  petits  monstres  que  1'amour  en  a  fait  sortir.  II  som- 
meiile  des  mois  entiers,  frequente  des  tombeaux,  habite 
des  lieux  inconnus,  compose  des  poisons  qui  glacent,  brfi- 
lent  ou  tachent  le  corps  de  sa  victime  des  couleurs  dont  il 
est  lui  meme  marque.  La,  il  leve  deux  tetes ;  menacan- 
tes  ;  ici,  il  fait  entendre  une  sonnette  ;  il  siffle  comme  un 
aigle  de  montagne ;  il  mngit  comme  uu  taureau.  11 
s'associe  nature", lement  a  toutes  les  idees  morales  ou  reli- 
Reuses,  comme  par  une  suite  de  llofluence  quril  cut  sur 


3fi  NOTES. 

nog  destinees :  objet  d'horreur  ou  d'adoration,  les  hommes 
ont  pour  lui  une  haine  implacable,  ou  tombent  devant 
son  genie  ;  le  raensonge  Pappelle,  la  prudence  le  reclame, 
Penvie  le  porte  dans  son  coeur,  et  1 'eloquence  a  son  cadu- 
cee;  aux  enfers  il  arme  les  fouets  des  furies,  au  ciel 
Peternite  en  fait  son  symbole  ;  il  possede  encore  Part  de 
seduire  Pinnocence  j  ses  regards  enchantent  les  oiseaux 
dans  les  airs  j  et  sous  la  fougere  de  la  crfcche,  la  brebis 
lui  abandonne  son  lait.  Mais  il  se  laisse  lui-meme  char 
mer  par  de  doux  sons ;  et  pour  le  dompter,  le  berger  n'a 
besoin  que  de  sa  flute. 

44  Au  mois  de  juillet  1791,  nous  voyagions  dans  le 
Haut-Canada,  avec  quelques  families  sauvages  de  la  nation 
des  Onontagues.  Un  jour  que  nous  etions  arret^s  dans 
une  grande  plaine,  au  bord  de  la  riviere  Genesie.  un 
serpent  a  sonnettes  entra  dans  notre  camp.  II  y  avait 
parmi  nous  un  Canadien  qui  jouiat  de  la  flute  ;  il  voulut 
nous  divertir,  et  s'avance  contre  le  serpent,  avec  son 
arme  d'une  nouvelle  espece.  A  1'approche  de  son  ennemi, 
le  superbe  reptile  se  forme  en  spirale,  aplatit  sa  tete,  enfle 
ses  joues,  contracte  ses  levres,  decouvre  ses  dents  empois- 
onnees  et  sa  gueule  sanglante ;  sa  double  langue  brandit 
comme  deaux  flammes ;  ses  yeux  charbons  ardens ;  son 
corps,  gonfle  de  rage,  s'abaisse  et  s'eleve  comme  les  souf- 
flets  d'une  forge ;  sa  peau  dilatee  devient  terne  et  ecail- 
leuse ;  et  sa  queue,  dont  il  sort  un  bruit  sinistre,  oscille 
avec  tant  de  rapidite,  qu'elle  ressemble  a  une  legere  va- 
peur. 

44  Alors  les  Canadien  commence  a  jouer  sur  sa  flute,  le 
serpent  fait  un  mouvement  de  surprise,  et  retire  la  tete  en 
arriere.  A  niesure  qu'il  est  frappe  de  Peffet  magique,  ses 
yeux  perdent  leur  aprete,  les  vibrations  de  sa  queue  se 
ralentissent,  et  le  bruit  qu'elle  fait  entendre,  s'affaiblit  et 


NOTES.  57 

meurt  peu  a  pen.  Moins  perpendiculaires  gur  leur  ligne 
spirale,  les  orbes  du  serpent  charme,  par  degres  s'elargis- 
sent,  et  viennent  tour  a  tour  se  poser  sur  la  terre  en  cer- 
cles  concentriques.  Les  nuances  d'azur,  de  verd,  de  blanc 
et  d'or  reprennent  leur  eclat  sur  sa  peau  fremissante,  et 
touraant  legerement  la  tete,  il  demeuce  immobile  dans 
P  attitude  de  ^attention  et  du  plaisir. 

"  Dans  ce  moment  le  Canadien  marche  quelques  pas,  en 
tirant  de  sa  flute  des  sons  doux  et  monotones  ;  le  reptile 
baisse  son  cou  nuance,  entr'ouvre  avec  sa  tete  les  herbes 
fines,  et  se  met  a  ramper  sur  les  traces  du  musicien  qui 
Pentraine,  s'arretant  lorsqu'il  s'arrete,  et  recommencant  a 
le  suivre,  quand  il  recommence  £  s'eloigner.  II  fut  ainsi 
conduit  hors  de  notre  camp,  au  milieu  d'une  foule  de 
spectateurs  tant  Sauvages  qu'Europ^ens  qui  en  croyaient 
a  peine  leurs  yeux,  a  cette  ineiveille  de  la  melodie:  il 
n'y  cut  qu'une  seule  voix  dans  1'assemblee,  pour  qu'on 
laissat  le  merveilleux  serpent  s'6chapper." 

Ibid.  pp.  174—179. 

16  Now,  he  recalls  the  lamentable  wail, 

That  pierc'd  the  shade  of  Rama's  palmy  vale, 
See  Matthew,  il.  16—18. 

17  That  Mighty  Spirit  once  from  Teman  came  : 
Clouds  were  his  chariot,  and  his  coursers  flame. 

God  came  from  Teman,  and  the  Holy  One  from  Mount 
Paran,  4'c.-- See  Habak.  iii.  3—17. 

18  Thou  didst  descend,  and,  rolling  through  the  croud, 
Inshrine  think  ark  and  altar  in  thy  shroud, 

And  fill  the  temple  with  thy  mantling  cloud. 


38  NOTES. 

0 

And  it  came  to  pass,  when  the  priests  were  come  out 
of  the  holy  place,  (for  all  the  priests  that  were  present 
were  sanctified,  and  did  not  then  wait  by  course  :  Also- 
the  Levites,  which  were  the  singers ;  all  of  them  of  Asaph 
of  Heman,  of  Jedtithun,  with  their  sons  and  their  brethren  ; 
being  arrayed  in  white  linen,  having  cymbals  and  psalte 
ries,  and  harps,  stood  at  the  east  end  of  the  altar,  and 
with  them  an  hundred  and  twenty  priests,  sounding  with 
trumpets  :)  It  came  to  pass,  as  the  trumpeters  and  singers 
were  as  one,  to  make  one  sound  to  be  heard  in  praising 
and  thanking  the  Lord ;  and  when  they  lifted  up  their 
voice  with  the  trumpets  and  instruments  of  musick,  and 
praised  the  Lord,  saying — For  he  is  good,  for  his  mercy 
endureth  forever ;  and  then  the  house  was  filled  with  a 
cloud,  even  the  house  of  the  Lord  j  so  that  the  priests 
could  not  stand  to  minister  by  reason  of  the  cloud;  for  the 
glory  of  the  Lord  had  filled  the  house  of  God. — '2  Chron* 
v.  11... .14. 

19  It  was  originally  intended  that  the  recitation  of  this 

poem  should  form  a  part  of  the  performances  of  an  even  - 
ing  concert  of  sacred  musick  for  charitable  purposes. 


14  DAY  USE 


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